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Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.

32: Porch Talk

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Thursday, February 2

"Sweetie, he's here," mom whispered, squeezing my shoulder. I felt like I had just (after many fitful attempts) fallen asleep. I removed hair from my mouth, groaning as I stretched. Jake meowed in protest but didn't move. Realizing what mom had said, I sat ramrod straight so quickly I felt dizzy.

"He's here?!" I whisper-yelled, glancing outside. It was pitch black except for our porch light casting shadows on the trees. "What's the time?"

"It's 6:10."

"He's… an hour early?"

Mom smiled. "He didn't knock. He didn't even drive up to our driveway, he pushed his bike so that it wouldn't wake up the subdivision. He's just… sitting on our porch."

"Did you—talk to him?"

"No, but, it's fifty degrees. I didn't want him to sit there, freezing for an hour."

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course not." I rubbed my face. "Could you make some coffee for us?"

"Already in thermal cups. Fleece throws, too." Mom lifted a stray curl from my face. "Please don't stay out too long if you can help it. I don't want you to get a UTI. Or get him to come inside whenever he's comfortable with that."

"You're the mom-iest mom you ever mom-ed, mom," I replied, hugging her. "I love you."

Mom, the chirpy morning lark that she was, smiled. "I love you, too, honey. Please call me if you need anything."

Having brushed my teeth and tamed my hair to a semi-presentable bun, I fit myself into mom's warm skiing pants, mystified as to why she owned them to begin with (she'd never skied in her life). I drank a bit of coffee to be able to stand up straight so early in the morning, collected two fleece throws under my arm and took the tray mom gave me before awkwardly knocking on the front door (what a concept) and peeking out.

Edward sprung up like a pouncing spring and faced me at the bottom of the stairs. You'd have never suspected I was wearing a knee-length coat over padded pants by the way Edward's eyes drank me in, taking in my face with a tortured softness that gave me goosebumps. Feeling my heart in my throat, I set the tray on the floor and the throws on the handrail.

I was glad to see his helmet on the porch because at least he'd have to walk through me to get to it if he wanted to escape.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Edward asked in a rough voice. His features were severe as ever with the eyebrow barbell I'd grown to love, but the turmoil in his tired eyes was undeniable.

"No, no."

Technically, my mother did.

Except for a passing siren on the highway several subdivisions away, silence surrounded us. It was chilly but humid. Our porch was covered by a roof, but the low, dark clouds didn't look too promising for Edward's ride to school.

Edward wore dark blue jeans and his gray jacket. A black hoodie was pulled over his head, and that blue home-made scarf he'd worn during our first conversation surrounded his neck.

My heart thumped loudly in my ears when our eyes met, and I wanted to say something normal, like 'how did you sleep?' or 'thank you for coming to meet me at the crack of dawn' or 'please don't run away again' but Edward looked so damn tense I didn't dare to attempt to lift his mood.

Still staring at my face with that wild intensity he was so good at, he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth and tapped the lowest part of the handrail, looking nervous and frustrated. His face contorted as he inhaled through his nose and let it out.

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes meeting mine, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't apologize enough for—for kissing you out of the blue like that. It wasn't fair of me to put you in that position, and—it won't happen again."

"Edward…" I whispered. I walked downstairs but stood against the wall a few feet from him. He picked on the peeling white paint of the handrail.

"And, what I said after, I have—no excuse. I'm sorry." He crossed his arms. His eyes, full of pent-up energy, lingered on my lips, but the rest of him felt impenetrable as ever. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Tell who what?"

His mouth dropped open, ever-so-slightly, and his eyes filled with anger.

"Your boyfriend, Bella," he said, slowly. "The guy who looks like any reason is a good enough reason to beat me up."

I blinked at him. I'd prepared for, hoped for and imagined all his possible reactions to the truth I intended to tell him, but I hadn't spent much time thinking about his truth.

"Fine," he said, sharply. "Whatever. Not important enough for you, clearly."

"No—"

"Don't worry. I won't tell him." Voice clipped, he stood, his eyes running over my face with a fierce intensity that gave me goosebumps. He desperately kept his lower lip from trembling as he pressed them together.

"Edward…" I whispered, touching his forearm, and it was like a dam broke. He backed me up against the wall and covered my neck with his palms.

"I don't want to share you, Bella," he whispered, eyes on fire. "I would never share anyone, but especially, especially not—" He shook his head, his voice twisting. "Not you. Not ever. And I'm not—I'm not much but I'd like to try, but I can't make you choose because he's probably better—" His voice broke. "He's better for you. Doesn't have a fucked up family or—"

Tears in my throat, I squished him in a hug. Edward pressed his open mouth against my hair, letting out a warm, shaky breath against my temple.

"He's not my boyfriend," I whispered, torn apart and put back together by his tight grip. "But even if he was I'd choose you."

"What?" He snapped back his head. His eyes were bursting with disbelief, and his voice was careful. "You broke up?"

"No," I replied, trying to keep myself inside my skin because his gaze set me on fire. "He lied. We needed an excuse for why he's going to be hanging out with me so much. It was the easiest one." I paused, preparing for his anger. "He's my… security detail."

Taken aback, Edward blinked. "Your what now?"

"My security detail," I repeated. "For protection."

Edward searched my eyes, back and forth, daring me to lie, but when he saw that I wasn't, his grip on my back strengthened. His gaze set me aflame, and he smelled like fierce, breathless attraction.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," I rushed to explain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't even agree to it in the first place. I wanted to tell you this week but we had a—discussion about it, but I lost, and—"

"And you have an NDA," Edward finished, his eyes full of questions he didn't voice. Finally, tension released from his shoulders, and his (so far seemingly) calm acceptance of my bodyguard blew me away. I felt giddy with his proximity and the fact that he hadn't run. He wasn't running. Instead, he licked the most gorgeous lips just inches from mine and touched his cold nose against my forehead. I could've burst into flames when his green eyes lingered on my lips.

"So you're—you're single?" he asked, like a scared secret, his breath ghosting over my skin and sending a wave of shivers down my spine. His eyes were brimming with affection.

"Well…" Biting back my smile, I touched his jaw with my fingertips. "There's this guy—"

I grinned when Edward cut me off with a kiss. Arching against him, I slid my hands under his jacket and tore his T-shirt out of his jeans to press my palms against his bare back. He felt firm, lean and beautiful, all man, and he lifted me on top of the first step of the porch before wrapping me up in his arms so tight I felt invincible. He tasted like toothpaste and a desperate yearning for more, his soft, firm lips setting me on fire, and I didn't want to know how many girls he'd kissed to be this good at it.

"What about this guy?" he whispered against my lips, eyes surrounded by the longest eyelashes. We were so close that his black hood not only surrounded his face but mine, too.

"I've heard he's a chess superwizard but…" I touched his nose with mine, giddy with disbelief. "He's a wee bit slow with girls."

Edward's laughter was a near-growl against my skin. I unzipped my coat. He slid his hands behind my back but paused, observing my shirt and reminding me that I was wearing a snug old T-shirt with a giant purple unicorn. Embarrassed beyond words, I tried to push him away to hide the least cool pajama top that ever existed but Edward refused to let go. He got a twinkle in his eye, and I was just about to tell him he'd better not make fun of my precious ratty pajamas but instead, he squeezed my waist, sliding his palms upwards and looking at me with such soft eyes I felt his gaze in my toes.

"Fuck you're cute," he whispered, voice low and rough, unzipping his own jacket before he squished me flush against him and pressed his lips against mine. He was so much warmer without coats and jackets on the way, and I felt high on the scent of his deodorant or hoodie. He smelled incredible. I was still learning how this scary, exhilarating kissing thing worked but somehow felt totally safe letting Edward move his tongue against mine. The sheer intimacy of the action still caught me off guard, creating this fiery ache in the pit of my stomach that made me squeeze his taut back muscles and pull him closer. His arms held me oh-so-tight, and I felt lightheaded with his little gasps blowing against my lips. He let out this low, cute rumble when I slid my fingers just underneath his waistband to pull his hips closer. He bit my lip, tugging just lightly, and I'd barely felt him poking my stomach when he jerked away so suddenly that I was left staring at him, panting and wide-eyed.

He held my waist but his eyes were shut. He let his forehead fall on my shoulder, and the sound he made was a groan and a laugh and an 'I can't believe you felt that'. I grinned. I felt too delighted (by his reaction to me) to ignore it, and it wasn't like he hadn't had the same reaction… was it really only two weeks ago? It felt like a lifetime.

Smiling against his hood, I tugged on his jacket to pull him back to me. Reluctantly, still hiding his face against my neck, he returned. It was new and scary and a little bit intoxicating to know that I had that effect on him. I buried my chin in his scarf-covered neck and hugged him tight, getting used to turning a boy on.

"Sorry," Edward whispered, his lips grazing against my neck. "You're—beautiful."

I felt alight. Loving his chest expanding against mine, I listened to the slow tapping of a few raindrops turn into steadier rain, and when the porch light timed out, Edward pulled back to touch his nose against my cheek, whispering, "I remember this part."

Even if his face hadn't been obscured by the hood surrounding it, I couldn't see a thing, but Edward ran his nose along my face and brushed his lips ever-so-gently against mine, lingering. "You've no clue how much I wanted to do that last time," he admitted quietly.

"I think I might," I replied against his lips before I pressed them against his. Edward groaned. He shifted, reaching behind me, and I squinted when his arm movements turned on the sensors. Light blinded us. He looked so attractive, so close, his eyes glazed-over and half-drunk, and I probably looked just as stupidly high as he did. I'd never seen him grin so wide, and I had a mountain of questions but I bet he did, too.

I was still in disbelief that today morning wasn't a dream.

"Do you want to go inside?" I asked. "My mom would die to feed all the contents of the fridge to you."

Edward laughed. "Can we stay here for a while longer?"

He took my hand and sat on top of the stairs, tilting his head at the place next to him, but I hesitated.

"Mom's worried I'll get a UTI sitting outside like this."

Edward reached for one of the fleece throws, scooted the coffee tray closer, and opened his arms. It made no sense for me to suddenly feel shy, but I avoided his eyes when I sat sideways on his lap. He covered my back with the blankie before sliding one of his arms around me under my coat. I held the edges of the throw, surrounding us with it, and felt lightheaded when his warm, strong palm snuck around mine and curled around it.

I was holding hands with a boy.

I'd never held hands with a boy before.

Not that I'd ever sat in one's lap, either.

"This okay?" Edward whispered against my ear, and it took every atom in my body not to squee. I squeezed his hand, nodding because I didn't trust my voice. I wanted to have the coffee mom prepared but no way in hell was I removing my hand from his.

Our eyes locked. He had such fierce, observant eyes with his sharp, wide eyebrows and a shiny silver barbell I'd always wanted to touch. Realizing that I could, in fact, do exactly that, I raised the hand that was holding Edward's and gently touched one tiny bulb. It felt cold and round, and when the other little ball pushed away from his skin, I snapped back my hand.

"Sorry," I whispered. "Didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me," he replied, eyes twinkling. He poked my nose with his, pecking my lips, and I may have swooned at how tender his otherwise intimidating eyes got when he searched my face. "Bella?"

I hummed, kissing the corner of his lips.

"Why do you need a bodyguard?"

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A/N: Anything else you're looking forward to or should I just mark this complete? lol.

Adore your thoughts :)